


What do I tell her?

by freelymystical



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, SPN - Freeform, Sibling bond, family bonds, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freelymystical/pseuds/freelymystical
Summary: Ah well, there are some stories to be told. Or are there?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. So, notes:-  
> 1\. Not a writer. Nope. Not at all.  
> 2\. No idea if this is a fic, ficlet, head-canon or just ramblings, but it is _something._  
>  3\. I love Sam Winchester. And Dean Winchester. And Sam & Dean Winchester.  
> 4\. If someone does read, please forgive me for all the mistakes - spelling, grammar and content.  
> 5\. Find me at spn-fangal-4ever.tumblr.com

Sam is happy. He can't keep the smile off his face even if he tries.

See, the thing is, he hasn't seen his big brother _this_ happy ever before. It's not that he hasn't seen Dean smiling or laughing or whatever. It's just, Sam hasn't seen this _childlike_ happiness on Dean. And it's really good to watch... satisfactory actually. Sam doesn't know when was the last time he felt this content.

Take _now_ , for example.

While Sam is sitting on one end of the table, pretending to research for their latest case, Dean is trading stories with mom on the other end.

 _Mom._ That's the other thing. Mary Winchester is back, in all her glory. And though this is exactly how Sam "remembers" his mom, he is still having trouble reconciling that image he has of her in his mind to the person sitting in front of him. His mom is younger than him. Talk about _supernatural!_

But whatever, like he said, all this weirdness is worth it to see Dean like this. Specially after when Sam thought that he had lost his brother forever. _Nope, no brain, not going there._

Mom is telling Dean something about the way he used to do somethings when he was 2-years old.  
"That's _exactly_ what Sammy used to do when he was 2-years old, too."

And here's this, for every 4-year-old-or-younger-Dean story mom has to tell, Dean has a similar Sammy-story to tell. Sam doesn't know who is really getting more fun out of these impromptu story telling sessions. 

Mom is shifting in her chair a little as if to include Sam into the conversation. Oh-kay then.  
"Sam..."  
"Hey guys, I am going for a supply-run, does anyone need anything?". As far as the excuses go, this one is the lamest. And surest.  
"Nah Sammy, we are good. but...", says Dean.  
"Sure? Okay, I'll be back in a while."

* * *

Running in early morning calms down Sam's mind like few activities do. Dean teases him, but Sam feels better after a run, so. Besides, Dean teases for half the things Sam does. Apparently this is the big-brother right. Whatever. And as if his thoughts conjured Dean, here he is, sitting at the kitchen table in his dead-man robes and with a mug of coffee in his hand, looking ready to sleep in this position only. Sam smirks a little and goes to fridge to take water bottle.  
"Ah, there you are. Seriously Sammy, who wakes up at god-awful hour just so that they can run and then sweat like a pig?"  
Sam says nothing. No need to say anything, they have had this 'argument' many times before. Besides, with the way Dean is fidgeting with his mug and even his robe, it is pretty clear he wants to talk about something that he really doesn't wanna know. Sam has a pretty good idea where this would go so he says nothing and just fills his coffee mug. 

Dean clears his throat. Here it goes.  
"Uh, Dean, I will go take a shower and then we will talk about that case...", Sam says, getting up from the chair.  
"No, Sam."  
"Huh?"  
"Sit down. You and I, we both know we have to talk about this, and no, you can't avoid or postpone it."  
"I don't know what you are talking about."  
Dean says nothing and just gives him the _look_. Well, it was worth a shot, at least.  
Sam exhales a deep breath and asks, "okay, what?"

  
"Why are you mad at mom?"  
"What? No! Why would I be mad at mom? What?"  
"No, then?"  
"Obviously not!" Sam says in the tone so indignant that even Dean manages to look sheepish.  
"Then what, Sam? Are you mad at me? Is that it?"  
"Dean! What the hell? I am not mad at you. I am not mad at anyone. Maybe those British MoL, but that's besides the point. Why would you think that?"  
"Can you blame me though? You are avoiding us like we are the last people you want to talk to. You were happy to see mom."  
"I am. Of course I am", Sam mumbles.  
"Then what, Sammy?"  
"You won't like the answer, Dean. Let it be."  
"Try me?", Dean sounds so tired and hurt that something breaks in Sam.  
"If I don't avoid her, what else am I supposed to do?", Sam says in a small voice.  
"And what is that supposed to mean?", the hurt in Dean's voice being replaced by confusion.

Sam looks at Dean for a long moment and starts very evenly, as if discussing details about a case, "She wants stories Dean. She wants to catch up on how my life has been. She wants to know who I am. And what I am supposed to tell her?"  
Sam can feel the familiar heart-ache and self-hatred rising in his chest.  
"Do I say, 'hi mom, I am Sam. I am the reason you died. Because some asshole demon wanted me to feed his blood. Also, did you know, I am also the reason my girlfriend died the similar way? By the way, I had the said girlfriend because I abandoned my family so that I could go to a fucking school. Also hey mom, my brother spent 40 years in hell because of me. And you know what kind of a welcome I gave him? I gave him a brother hooked on demon blood and being best friends with a demon. Talk about good judgement. Also, when the first time an angel saw me, his first thought was that I am an abomination. Not wrong huh? Oh, and, you are also looking at the guy who freed Lucifer, yes, the Devil himself, from his cage. Awesome, right? "

Sam could see that he is breaking Dean's heart with his words, but now that he has started, he really doesn't know how to stop.  
"And mom, my adventures have just started. I mean I went around soulless for more than an year, God knows did what all! And then went crazy when I got my soul back. Then when my brother died saving the world, I went and played house with a girl I didn't know from Adam."  
"Sammy, please... "  
" Oooh, mom, mom listen, so I had this chance to close the gates of hell. But ya know me. Heh. By the way, when Dean tried to save me because I was dying, _again_ , I got so mad and drove him so far away that he got himself the mark of Cain. And then became a demon. Oh but the funnier thing is, even though it was Dean who was the demon, I was the one making people sell their souls. Huh."  
"Stop Sam... "  
" Or should I tell mom about the Darkness, Dean? About how I broke the world, or the Cage... "  
"Sam, STOP!" 

Dean's voice cuts through Sam's haze and he just slumps on the chair. Sam didn't realize when he started crying but his cheeks are wet. Great!  
"Sam, Sammy, what is this?",Dean is kneeling down in front of Sam and is holding his shoulders. "Sam, why are you still carrying all this? And for how long are you going to blame yourself for the things you are not even responsible for?"  
Sam wants pot-Dean to say hi to kettle, but he guesses the snort he gives is sufficient to express his sentiments on that particular statement.  
"Shut up.", Dean grumbles.  
"Listen to me, okay? Listen carefully. You can tell mom all of that. Or you can tell mom that even though it was so difficult being raised in a mother-less family with an absentee father, you still grew up one of the best hunters ever. And if that wasn't enough, you worked hard enough, are smart enough to get into a school like Stanford." 

Sam guesses snorting is the only action he is going to do now. He covers his eyes as a self-deprecating chuckle escapes his lips.  
"No, Sammy, look at me.", Dean says taking Sam's hands in his own. "Mom, Jessica, none of it was your fault. You know that. You have to know that. Sam, I didn't go to hell because of you, I did it because I couldn't do it without you. I told you that. You told me that, too. And you know I will do that again in a heartbeat. Sammy, you can tell her that you freed Lucifer, or you can tell her that you _saved the world_. You fought with the Devil himself toe-to-toe, and _you_ emerged as a winner." 

When Dean starts talking like this, looking so sincere, holding Sam's hands in his own, looking as if he believes what he is saying, Sam can't help but feel like 10 again, looking at his big-brother, hoping that maybe, _maybe_ he can make things right again.  
"Sammy, _you_ remember being soulless? _I_ remember you helping a girl when you were in no condition to help yourself"  
"Dean, please, stop."  
"No, Sam. _You_ remember the things you did to get me back, _I_ remember you not giving up on me. Do you regret that?"  
"No, of course not."  
"Exactly. Sam we might break the world, but we go beyond the call of duty to patch it back up, too. Hell, freaking _God_ thinks Earth will be fine with us. If He can trust you, then if nothing else, you can keep faith in his faith, can't you, Sammy?" 

And that's it. That just does it. Sam slips down onto the floor and into Dean's arms losing it in his neck like a baby. Maybe all Dean's 4-year-old-Sammy stories have turned Sam into an actual 4-year old.  
But Dean doesn't let go. Neither does Sam. It's been a while since Dean has held him like this, a while since Sam felt he is _enough_ to be held like this.  
Sam could feel Dean's hand in his hair, just like they are there whenever he needs to make sure Sam is okay.  
After a while he felt another hand join Dean's on his head.  
He looked up at his mom, standing there, smiling that smile at him as if she is proud of him. 

But that's not the best part. 

The best part is that, for the first time in forever, there's a hand on Dean's head, too.

* * *


End file.
